All this was but my own silent reflections.
“Doctor!” said I, elevating my voice; “I must go to the plantation.”
“Not to-night!”
“To-night,—now!”
“My dear Mr E., you must not.”
“Why?”
“It is impossible,—I cannot permit it,—you will have a fever; it may cost you your life!”
“But—”
“I cannot hear you. I assure you, you are now on the verge of a fever. You must remain in your room—at least, until to-morrow. Perhaps then you may go out with safety. Now it is impossible.”
I was compelled to acquiesce, though I am not certain but that had I taken my own way it would have been better for my “fever.” Within me was a cause of fever much stronger than any exposure to the night air. My throbbing heart and wildly-coursing blood soon acted upon my brain.